Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina Chapter 142: Stuck

Arion’s teeth were locked in his neck, his knot was locked in his ass, and his cum was a scalding flood deep inside Dean’s body. Dean’s own release was a cooling ss on his stomach and table beneath them. He trembled, his muscles twitching with the aftershocks, his hole fluttering weakly around the thick, swollen knot.

Arion’s breathing was ragged against his skin. Slowly, the tension in his jaw eased. He released Dean’s gland, licking over the throbbing, punctured skin with a rough, possessive swipe of his tongue. A low, satisfied rumble vibrated through his chest and into Dean’s back.

"Mine," Arion growled, the word muffled against Dean’s neck.

Dean could only manage a weak, breathless sound of agreent.

The table beneath them creaked ominously.

Arion shifted his weight, his arms sliding under Dean’s body. He lifted them both, Dean still penetrated by his knot.

Dean cried out, the movent sending a fresh, dizzying jolt of sensation through his oversensitive body.

Arion carried him like that, Dean’s legs wrapped loosely around his waist, away from the wreckage of the table.

He walked them through the archway into the dimly lit bedroom, his steps heavy. He didn’t lay Dean on the bed. Instead, he turned and pressed Dean’s back against the nearest wall, pinning him down with his own weight.

"Still hard," Arion murmured, his voice gravelly. He rolled his hips, and the swollen base dragged against Dean’s stretched rim, and Dean whimpered, his soft cock giving a weak twitch.

"You’re insatiable," Dean breathed between his gritted teeth.

Each movent rubbed the knot against Dean’s prostate, a constant stimulation that was torture and bliss. Dean could feel more of Arion’s release seeping out around the knot, dripping now on both their thighs.

Dean let his head fall back against the cool plaster of the wall, his eyes half-closed in a haze of pleasure. He forced them open, wanting to see the man who was wrecking him so completely.

He tilted his head back, his gaze lifting to et Arion’s.

The murky gold was still there, but it was churning, like liquid tal over a dark fire. And his pupils... they weren’t round anymore. They were vertical, black slits, like a reptile or a monster from a nightmare. They were fixed on Dean with an unsettling, predatory gaze that made his breath catch.

"You made this way," Arion said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. As he spoke, his lips pulled back into a smirk, and Dean saw them.

His teeth.

Dean’s breath hitched.

His classes on secondary gender biology had covered this.

During a rut or a marking, a dominant alpha will experience a much more dramatic shift than a normal alpha. Canines would elongate and sharpen to better pierce the flesh of a mate. It was a normal, biological function.

This was not normal.

Arion’s canines were longer than any textbook had described, gleaming points that looked wickedly sharp. But it was the rest of his teeth that held Dean frozen. They were all sharper, more pointed than a human’s should be. They were predatory teeth, designed not only to mark but also to rip and tear. A wave of fear, cold and sharp, cut through the haze of his arousal.

"Wha..." Dean started, but the word died in his throat.

Arion saw the fear in his eyes. A dark, possessive satisfaction glead in the slitted pupils. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Dean’s lips.

"What’s wrong, Dean?" he murmured, his voice a low, taunting purr. He deliberately showed off his teeth again. "Don’t you like what you see? You wanted the beast. You’re looking right at it."

He rolled his hips again, a slow grind that shoved the knot deeper.

Arion’s smirk widened. "You’re not scared, are you?" he purred, though he knew damn well Dean was. He could sll it on him, the sharp tang of fear cutting through the sweet scent of his heat and satisfaction. "You shouldn’t be. You are the only one safe around this."

Dean stared up at the slitted pupils and the predator’s teeth, and the aning behind them shifted. Arion was telling him, in his own brutal way, that Dean was the only person who would never be hard.

The fear didn’t vanish, but it transford, lting into a dark, thrilling possessiveness of its own. He was the only one. The only one who could see this, touch this, and be claid by this.

A slow, breathless laugh escaped Dean’s lips. He lifted a hand, his fingers tracing the line of Arion’s jaw, feeling the tension thrumming just beneath the skin. He did not flinch at the sharp teeth so close to his face.

"Safe?" Dean whispered, his voice husky with awe and a challenge. He rolled his own hips, a movent that made them both groan as the knot shifted inside him. "You call this safe? You’re ruining , Arion."

A low, rumbling sound vibrated from Arion’s chest, a sound of pure, predatory approval. "Good," he growled. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Dean’s ear. "I want to ruin you for anyone else. I want you to feel for a week."

He punctuated the promise with another slow, grinding roll of his hips, the swollen base of his knot dragging against Dean’s prostate with brutal force. Dean’s soft cock twitched nervously against his stomach.

"Look at ," Arion commanded, his voice a low, dominant rumble.

Dean forced his eyes open, eting that terrifying, beautiful gaze.

"This is what you wanted," Arion snarled, his teeth still bared in a feral grin. "This is what you get when you stop holding back. When you let the beast out to play."

He began to move again, a slow, deep rocking that used the knot for leverage.

Each movent brought a new wave of sensation, a constant, overwhelming stimulation that pushed Dean beyond the point of pleasure and into sothing completely different.

"You wanted to see lose control," Arion murmured, his voice dropping into a low, possessive whisper. He pressed his forehead against Dean’s, the slitted pupils boring into him. "Congratulations, Dean. You got your wish. Now you’re stuck with ."